Fire Nation Invasion
by Skylord
Summary: The Fire Nation Military attacks the Southern Air Temple.


**Fire Nation Invasion**

Written by Skylord

Disclaimer: Yep. I totally own Avatar. That's why I'm writing **FAN **fiction.

"So the Avatar is truly dead…" The Chief Monk hung his head with a sad look worn apon his face. The other monks shared his expression.

"We have been searching for five days… the Avatar is no where to be found." Monk Geero reported the results of his search campaign. He only added to the negative mood of the monks around him.

The Chief Monk raised his head. '_I need to gi_v_e them leadership, not a sad expression!' _He looked toward his fellow monks. "Then he will have been reborn into the Water Tribe, notify them to begin their search for the new Avatar."

Geero looked at him and nodded in acknowledgement. "What of Gyatso?" The Chief sighed at the mention of his friend's name.

"I'm afraid he is far too attached to the young Avatar to accept the truth. He is convinced Aang is still alive somewhere, and he will search until he finds him." The Chief Monk Aron sighed again and shrugged off the thought of Gyatso finding the young Avatar's corpse.

Geero nodded before bowing and heading toward the bison stables.

Another monk stepped forward. "What of the omen? The storm. It foreshadows war, does it not?"

Aron looked toward the dark skies, the storm had let up a bit, but it would probably start up again before twilight's end. "Yes, it does." The monk looked toward the gray clouds, then back at Aron.

"Then we need to be preparing! If war truly is apon us then—" He was cut of by a crash of lightning and a familiar face rushing in the room.

"Gyatso!" Aron stood up and started toward his friend as Geero rushed in with him.

Gyatso wore a grave look on his face. He did not speak. Geero ran in front of him and started breathing heavily. "Fire Nation Troops… they attacked me as I was leaving the Patola Range… they're going to lay siege to the temple!" As if a confirmation to Geero's tale, a ball of flaming rock flew straight through the walls of the temple and into the room crashing straight through the wall opposite of it in its path.

"Catapults…" Geero extended his arm and his air staff flew at his hand. He grasped it and started out to fight the threat. All the monks faintly heard shouts and screams of terror.

Aron repeated Geero's action and followed him straight toward the menace assaulting their sacred temple. The rest of the monks followed suit.

"Merciful Spirits…" Aron gazed out apon the endless waves of Fire Nation Troops. Geero looked back at him. "Come on!" Aron shrugged off the hopelessness and charged into battle.

A blast of fire blew past Aron and hit a fellow monk, that victim collapsed and stopped breathing. Aron filled with rage and blew a gust of wind at the soldiers in front of him. The Fire benders flew back a few yards before getting up and releasing their whips of flame on the monks.

A whip slashed Geero in the face and left a bleeding wound right across it. He grasped his wound and yet out a yelp before being hit with several more balls of flame. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath before being hit one last time. At this, he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Aron spiraled his hands and created a tornado. He jutted his hands forward and sent the twister at the Fire benders. Looks of horror befell the troops' faces as they were sucked into the tornado and spat back out by the mighty winds at rocks and trees.

Gyatso sent a blade of wind at a nearby soldier. The force of the wind blade sliced straight through the fire bender's armor and skin, leaving a deep wound in the troop's stomach. He fell to his knees in pain and grasped his stomach as many of his fellow warriors faced the same fate as him.

Hours later, the battle still raged on, now, there were only a few monks left, yet the fire nation army just kept on coming, replenishing their fallen soldiers in seconds.

Aron was among the few left, he cast a small blast of wind at a fire bender and the warrior fell to the ground. The uni-browed monk was panting in his tiredness; he had been fighting for hours with not the slightest bit of rest. In his tiredness, he would not be able to defend the blasts of flame flying at him. Instead, he fell to the ground in death apon impact of the fire. The troops advanced forward, killing the remaining monks as they came by.

Gyatso looked at the piles of dead fire nation soldiers around him, then at the advancing forces. "Too many… no strength." Gyatso fell down for lack of energy. Like the many monks before him, he was struck by the fire benders' attacks. He fell against the temple wall behind him, not breathing.

The Fire Nation legions marched through out the temple grounds and killed all the remaining monks there. Corpses were spread across the mountain, Fire Nation and Air Nomad alike. No one escaped the attacks on the Southern Air Temple.

One hundred years later, a native of the temple returned home, there he found the scattered skeletons; he left that place, knowing he was the last of his kind.

-sniffle- It made me sad to write this, but the idea was in my mind for a while, and I had to. Please give constructive critique, it is greatly appreciated.

[center[b[size26pt[font38Fire Nation Invasion[/font[/size[/b[/center

[center[size18pt[font38Written by Skylord[/font[/size[/center

Disclaimer: Yep. I totally own Avatar. That's why I'm writing [bFAN[/b fiction.

"So the Avatar is truly dead…" The Chief Monk hung his head with a sad look worn apon his face. The other monks shared his expression.

"We have been searching for five days… the Avatar is no where to be found." Monk Geero reported the results of his search campaign. He only added to the negative mood of the monks around him.

The Chief Monk raised his head. '[iI need to give them leadership, not a sad expression![/i' He looked toward his fellow monks. "Then he will have been reborn into the Water Tribe, notify them to begin their search for the new Avatar."

Geero looked at him and nodded in acknowledgement. "What of Gyatso?" The Chief sighed at the mention of his friend's name.

"I'm afraid he is far too attached to the young Avatar to accept the truth. He is convinced Aang is still alive somewhere, and he will search until he finds him." The Chief Monk Aron sighed again and shrugged off the thought of Gyatso finding the young Avatar's corpse.

Geero nodded before bowing and heading toward the bison stables.

Another monk stepped forward. "What of the omen? The storm. It foreshadows war, does it not?"

Aron looked toward the dark skies, the storm had let up a bit, but it would probably start up again before twilight's end. "Yes, it does." The monk looked toward the gray clouds, then back at Aron.

"Then we need to be preparing! If war truly is apon us then—" He was cut of by a crash of lightning and a familiar face rushing in the room.

"Gyatso!" Aron stood up and started toward his friend as Geero rushed in with him.

Gyatso wore a grave look on his face. He did not speak. Geero ran in front of him and started breathing heavily. "Fire Nation Troops… they attacked me as I was leaving the Patola Range… they're going to lay siege to the temple!" As if a confirmation to Geero's tale, a ball of flaming rock flew straight through the walls of the temple and into the room crashing straight through the wall opposite of it in its path.

"Catapults…" Geero extended his arm and his air staff flew at his hand. He grasped it and started out to fight the threat. All the monks faintly heard shouts and screams of terror.

Aron repeated Geero's action and followed him straight toward the menace assaulting their sacred temple. The rest of the monks followed suit.

"Merciful Spirits…" Aron gazed out apon the endless waves of Fire Nation Troops. Geero looked back at him. "Come on!" Aron shrugged off the hopelessness and charged into battle.

A blast of fire blew past Aron and hit a fellow monk, that victim collapsed and stopped breathing. Aron filled with rage and blew a gust of wind at the soldiers in front of him. The Fire benders flew back a few yards before getting up and releasing their whips of flame on the monks.

A whip slashed Geero in the face and left a bleeding wound right acrossit. He grasped his wound and yet out a yelp before being hit with several more balls of flame. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath before being hit one last time. At this, he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Aron spiraled his hands and created a tornado. He jutted his hands forward and sent the twister at the Fire benders. Looks of horror befell the troops' faces as they were sucked into the tornado and spat back out by the mighty winds at rocks and trees.

Gyatso sent a blade of wind at a nearby soldier. The force of the wind blade sliced straight through the fire bender's armor and skin, leaving a deep wound in the troop's stomach. He fell to his knees in pain and grasped his stomach as many of his fellow warriors faced the same fate as him.

Hours later, the battle still raged on, now, there were only a few monks left, yet the fire nation army just kept on coming, replenishing their fallen soldiers in seconds.

Aron was among the few left, he cast a small blast of wind at a fire bender and the warrior fell to the ground. The uni-browed monk was panting in his tiredness; he had been fighting for hours with not the slightest bit of rest. In his tiredness, he would not be able to defend the blasts of flame flying at him. Instead, he fell to the ground in death apon impact of the fire. The troops advanced forward, killing the remaining monks as they came by.

Gyatso looked at the piles of dead fire nation soldiers around him, then at the advancing forces. "Too many… no strength." Gyatso fell down for lack of energy. Like the many monks before him, he was struck by the fire benders' attacks. He fell against the temple wall behind him, not breathing.

The Fire Nation legions marched through out the temple grounds and killed all the remaining monks there. Corpses were spread across the mountain, Fire Nation and Air Nomad alike. No one escaped the attacks on the Southern Air Temple.

One hundred years later, a native of the temple returned home, there he found the scattered skeletons; he left that place, knowing he was the last of his kind.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

-sniffle- It made me sad to write this, but the idea was in my mind for a while, and I had to. Please give constructive critique, it is greatly appreciated.


End file.
